Beneath the Burn (46 page)

Seated around Tony, Jay’s bandmates shoveled through their own plates of breakfast grease. All eyes were on the TV as Nathan rewound the clip and started it again.

Charlee’s situation with Roy affected the entire household. A heavy weight of guilt made her want to crawl in the corner and disappear, but that kind of weakness wouldn’t help anyone.

“Go eat.” She pushed Jay toward the island.

He glanced at her hands where they rested on his arm and gave her a small smile. She’d touched him without thinking, and he wasn’t having a meltdown. At least, they had that.

Without moving her hands, she faced Nathan. “When did this air?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” He paused the image of Roy’s face pinched in concentration and stared at it as if it held some hidden solution to all their problems.

“He’s in his home office.” She gestured at the leather wallpaper and rich wood shelves in the background. Had there been a slave between his legs, sucking him off while leashed to a chain? Dread rolled over her in shuddering waves.

“We had him tailed after we left your apartment yesterday,” Tony said around a mouthful of melon. “We assumed he went back to San Francisco, but we couldn’t confirm his arrival. This is good news. We know where he’s at.”

They knew where he was twenty minutes ago. Charlee wasn’t sure what her expression held but Jay set his half-filled plate on the island and tugged her under the mantle of his arm. “San Fran is a six-hour drive from here. An hour and a half by plane.”

He was telling her she had a couple hours before she needed to worry about Roy circling the property in person. She nodded.

When she turned back to Nathan, she noticed the vacant veranda behind him. Where were all the girls?

“We sent the visitors home,” he said, perceptive as always. Worry lines creased the corners of his eyes. Something else was going on.

Her head throbbed. “Nathan, how’d you know about the record company acquisition before it was publicly announced?”

“I didn’t.” He powered off the TV. “This isn’t the news I received this morning. Sit down, Charlee.” He pointed to a deep cushioned chair in the living room.

Her hands shook as she dragged her bare feet over the wood floors. Was Roy already blackmailing the band? Had they decided to turn her over to him? A violent surge of fear choked her breath. Worse, was the alarming pressure behind her eyes at the thought of being separated from Jay.

Jay stayed at her side, carrying a plate piled with bacon and buttered toast. Lowering into the chair, he pulled her with him into his lap. “Half of this is yours.” He held the plate under her nose.

Dishes rattled in the kitchen and multiple footsteps shuffled in around her. Faye perched on the armrest of a love seat. Rio, Laz and Wil spread out on the couches, unusually quiet as their eyes lingered on her longer than she was comfortable with.

Nathan must have gestured them over. Why was everyone staring at her as if they’d never seen her before? Her insides knotted and she tried not to fidget under their scrutiny. Their expressions were heated, not with the anger she expected, but with a rawness that turned her stomach.

She jerked her gaze to Nathan. “You told them.” How much had he told them? Did they know every sickening detail of her time with Roy?

Tony paced into her periphery and stood beside Nathan. “We both did. They needed to understand—”

“It’s fine, Tony.” Jay set the plate on the end table and shifted Charlee in his lap to face him. “I was going to tell them regardless. The band and everyone we employ will be impacted by your presence here, whether it’s adding more guards, upping the safety precautions… changing record labels.” His eyes were soft, gentle.

Guilt stabbed her anew. In a way, it was a relief to not have to live in subterfuge and filter everything that came out of her mouth, but she didn’t want those luxuries at the expense of Jay’s friends and their careers.

She swiveled in his lap to meet their eyes, the effort in her movements slogging with shame. “I knew this would reach beyond me, and I came here heedless of the trouble it would cause. I’m sorry.” She held the eyes of each musician. “Did they tell you everything?”

Laz shrugged and leaned back in the couch. “We got the cliff notes. I already knew some of it, what you told me in the limo in New York. They filled in the rest. Imprisoned twice by this Oxford prick. He did things to you. Bad things. To his guards. Killed your boyfriend, too.” His expression was soft in the way that made her neck sink into her shoulders. He knew exactly what those
things
were.

He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Then there’s the arms-trafficking. Blackmailing. Bullying acquisitions. And now he’s on a mission to destroy our band.” He shrugged. “To rip us apart from the top down. That about sum it up?”

She nodded, numb. He hated her. As he should. She looked at Wil, who fiddled with the drawstring of his trunks. His eyes rolled up and snagged hers. “I just want to know when you’re going to tattoo Laz’s dick.”

A ripple of chuckles relieved some of the tension in the room.
Well played, Wil
. But the muscled legs beneath her turned to stone.

Jay moved to the edge of the chair, taking her with him. “Are you mentally handicapped? She’s not going anywhere near Laz’s dick.”

Wil flicked a blond coil out of his eyes. “A bet’s a bet.”

“A bet I didn’t make. Someone else can do the tat.”

Nathan rubbed his temples. “Can we focus on the point of this meeting?”

“You’re touching him.” Rio’s deep bass jerked every head in Charlee’s direction. “Fucking hands all over his fucking body.” His dark eyes were the size of cymbals and wrinkles formed on his bald head.

Charlee’s palm stilled on Jay’s bicep beneath his shirt sleeve. The other pressed against the sinews straining in his neck.

“No one touches Jay,” Rio rose. “No one ever touches Jay.”

Laz dropped his jaw. “You’re a fucking miracle.” He pointed to guys, grinning. “She’s cured him!”

In the next breath, Rio’s massive body plowed into them, knocking the chair backward and sprawling the three of them across the floor. Charlee rolled free of the grappling limbs.

Rio pinned Jay to the floor, straddling his hips, and arms hooked around him in a bear hug. She crawled toward Jay’s head to make sure he wasn’t lost in his memories.

His eyes were shut, his arms crossed over the other man’s back, and a smile tugged one side of his mouth. It was a pose that might’ve made a straight man blush. A man outside the intimate circle of the band, anyway.

Nathan hadn’t moved from his spot near the TV. Hands in his pockets, eyes on Tony’s stiff stance a few feet away. He seemed to be taking advantage of the diverted moment. He looked so content, Charlee hoped he had a lot more of those moments in his future.

Charlee climbed to her feet to watch the strange display of affection from afar. Laz and Wil jumped on Rio’s back, pulled him off and took his place. Wil grabbed Jay’s hands. Jay widened his eyes just as Laz’s fist caught him in the stomach.

Gasping, she jumped up to intervene, but Jay caught her gaze and shook his head. His smile convinced her to back off.

Rio pulled away from the twisting pile of bodies and approached her. “How’d you do it?”

The touching? She shouldn’t have been surprised by how affected they were by it—or lack of it. “He’s doing it. He’s fighting it.”

Without warning, Rio’s arms came around her, pinning her hands at her sides and lifting her from the floor. Oh shit. His lips landed on hers, slobbery and aggressive.

“Riooooo.”

At the sound of Jay’s distressed bellow, Rio released her and bent over, clutching his knees and roaring with laughter. “Dude, I kept my tongue to myself.” He stepped away, hands in the air, eyes twinkling. “Next time, I won’t be such a prude.”

Laz used the distraction to slap Jay’s face. His hand stayed there, holding his jaw. “I’ve wanted to do that for so damn long. And this…” He shoved Jay’s face away, rolled him over with Wil’s help, all three grunting with the effort to out-wrestle each other.

“Hold him.” Laz fought Jay’s arms while Wil put a knee in his back, pressing him to the floor.

What were they going to do? She looked at Rio in a silent plea to stop them, but he only stretched an arm in front of her to block her. Poor Jay was on his own.

Laz reached under Jay’s waistband and yanked his briefs.

Jay’s yelp accompanied the rip of cotton. “Sonofabitch. The one day I wear underwear—”

“That’s payback for giving me a wedgie in front of Cindy Hollis in ninth grade.” Laz grinned at Charlee as if her witnessing the performance was the true punishment.

Jay flopped to his back in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. All these years, they could never hit him, hug him, or seek childhood restitution. She could see now the barrier his triggers had put between him and his friends. Yet, they had somehow maintained a bond that ignored limitations.

“Jesus.” Nathan paced beside the wrestling match. “Can we have the touchy feely reunion another time?”

But they were too caught up. Jay was still laughing as the three of them rolled through the room, red-faced, throwing legs, ripping t-shirts, and slamming each other into the wall.

Charlee stood back, her fingers curled against her lips, her heart right there with them.

A high-pitched whistle pierced through the grunting and fist smacking. Faye stood on the leather ottoman, fingers between her teeth.

The guys broke apart and stared up at her, panting. She’d done this before.

“As much as I don’t want to disrupt a
happy
fight for a change, Nathan’s been trying to get your attention. Sit your asses down and give it to him.”

After a few skull smacks and playful shoves, everyone returned to the couches. Charlee righted the chair, climbed back onto Jay’s lap, and handed him his breakfast. Hair mussed and face flushed, he gave her a brilliant smile.

59

Charlee’s earlier anxiety returned as Nathan approached her. Seeing his tense expression and hands on his hips took her back through their years on the run. He was worried.

“We have a spotter at Roy’s penthouse.”

“Another one?” Adrenaline heated her blood, energized her. This was great news. Nathan had been the one and only spy they knew of. Given the manner in which she escaped, it was safe to assume Roy wouldn’t be so trusting with new employees.

A twitch rippled over his jaw. “He works for Henry Munt.”

“The same Henry Munt who funded your undercover assignment?” After losing his family-owned company to Roy, Henry was determined in his revenge. And Nathan fucked that up by blowing his cover when he rescued her.

“Same Henry. His spotter has been embedded within Roy’s ranks since before I was there. I remember him. He’s good. I never suspected he was anything other than one of Roy’s corrupt guards.”

“Why did Henry hire you if he already had a spy in position?”

Nathan shrugged. “To cover his bases. In hopes one of us succeeded.”

Holy hell. That meant the spotter had been working undercover for over three years. She filed through all the possibilities. “He should’ve found a way to collect video footage by now. Of me. Or maybe of some of the behind-the-door conversations of Roy’s dealings.”

Nathan sighed. “Impossible, Charlee. Roy’s business is defense technology and information security. His shit is locked down. Videos feed to unknown locations. All data transmissions are encrypted. And with alerts on his equipment, he knows the moment someone tampers with it.”

Of course. Her excitement fizzled. “Then what has Henry’s spy been doing all this time?”

“Reporting Roy’s activities to Henry, who is waiting for…hell, I don’t know. A slip-up, I guess.” He rubbed his forehead, leaving red streaks from the pressure of his fingers. “Henry contacted me yesterday to tell me about the spotter. Seeing your whereabouts in the news prompted him to loop me in. He doesn’t know you, but he knows about you. He wants to do what he can to keep you safe from Roy.”

As part of Roy’s security team, Henry’s spotter would’ve seen her on the cameras. She swallowed and asked the question she’d feared the answer to since the day she escaped. “Has Henry’s guy reported other women? Other slaves?”